November Without You
by xfreelifex
Summary: It's a story of mystery, deception, love, and despair. It's about missing persons and searches, of maybes and could have beens. It's about riddles and chases, partners, and last cases. It's about showing and not telling you what happened that November.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** I don't own anything.

**A/N:** This is new. I had no idea I was going to write this, I don't even have a concrete plan for this story yet. As many of you know, I haven't finished writing the crossover yet. I have written some of it, but I honestly hate everything I have written in the past month. I don't think I'm going to keep any of it. Anyway, this is what you end up with: an entirely new story.

The inspiration for this story came from Tim O'Brien's novel _In the Lake of the Woods_, which is a beautiful, yet haunting story about mystery and deception. With this story, I have tried to mimic some of O'Brien's writing style, combining it with my own. The result is quite interesting. However, in keeping with the O'Brien style of writing (in all of his stories, not just this one), the story is going to seem unresolved. Yes, it is annoying to have an unresolved story, but if you think on a deeper level, you may find the story actually might have the ability to resolve itself.

With that said, enjoy and please review. I would love to know what you think!

* * *

Maybe she had just gotten lost. Maybe she had gone out for a jog, but had strayed away from the path. Maybe she was fine and just taking her time in coming back to him.

Maybe, just maybe.

Maybe she had woken up that morning, feeling the sunlight warming her skin as it shone through the window. Maybe she had kissed him before rolling out of bed and getting dressed to go jogging. She had gone to the kitchen and had made herself a cup of coffee that she would drink before stepping out into the woods to run.

Maybe she had stretched before leaving the comfortable cottage in the woods. She had bent her flexible body in half, reaching her arms down to her toes to stretch her hamstrings. Then she had bent her knee and pulled her foot to her lower back, stretching her quads. Maybe then she had decided she was ready and had gone away jogging.

Maybe she had decided to go for a longer jog this morning for no real reason in particular. Maybe the birds were singing a joyous melody of life and of the present and she had gotten lost in it. Maybe she was just fine.

Maybe, just maybe.

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ONE WEEK EARLIER

"Benson, Stabler, my office, now!" The captain's voice was brisk, yet he managed to wrap gentle undertones around his otherwise harsh barks of words.

Olivia and Elliot looked at each other in mild surprise. They had a sinking feeling about what this could be about; they knew each other well enough to read it in the other's face. Their faces were both lined with fatigue and the wear and tear of this stressful job and the stressful lives that they led.

"Close the door," Cragen said softly when his two detectives had entered his office. Elliot pulled the door shut behind him. "Sit down, detectives." Olivia and Elliot obliged.

The captain studied his two detectives for a moment before speaking again. "You are both very tired and very overworked," he began softly. "I know that this last case in particular took a great toll on you both."

Olivia and Elliot exchanged looks. Their last case had involved the slaughters of no less than ten children through a sick game of twisted riddles that only led them to more dead bodies. It had both of them running to their last breath, literally and figuratively. Finding the last body only six minutes past their deadline had been almost too much to bear. Finally, the twisted criminal decided to kill himself. Elliot and Olivia had found his body at the destination indicated by the final riddle.

Cragen noticed their lack of argument. "I know I should force you both to talk to Huang, but I don't think that's what you need right now. I know that you have each other to talk to."

His smile was just a little too knowing.

Cragen continued as though he hadn't said anything suspicious. "I want you both to take vacation time. Mandatory, no arguments. I want you to go somewhere to clear your heads, somewhere where you don't have to worry about anything else but yourselves. You both have given so much to this job and it is wearing you down. I don't want anything to happen to either of you. You need to take this break."

Olivia bit her lip. She didn't like the idea of taking a vacation from work, but she was too tired to argue. Plus, she knew that the captain was right. She chanced a glance at Elliot. He too looked tired, his eyes slightly glazed over.

Olivia nodded. "We will take the vacation."

Cragen nodded slowly. "Good."

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Maybe she would walk through the door any minute and ask him what was for lunch. It would be a rather late lunch, yes, but it would be lunch all the same. Maybe they would sit at the small wooden table and talk and laugh like they could forget the horrors they had left behind them in New York. Maybe they could forget the stresses of their job and lose themselves in the barren Minnesota wilderness.

Maybe, just maybe.

Maybe.

Maybe not.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** I still don't own anything...

**A/N: **Wow, thanks for the great response for the first chapter! Thanks to tamasai1, onetreefan, Kelly of the midnight dawn, obsessedwithstabler, C.T., Drop Dead Saxy, WuHaoNi, estrelita lovesSVU, Hermione's Helping Hand, Hkitty9013, and KaydenceRei for reviewing.

So we're going to try something here. I didn't indicate which of these are flashbacks or anything like that because I honestly think you are intelligent enough to figure that out, especially since there is a row of x's before each one. But if it gets confusing, let me know and I can add more indications. All set? Now read and review!

**Dedicated to KaydenceRei. Her poetry is incredible. You will see some of it in this chapter, and in more chapters to come. Thanks again for all your help last night, girlie! Love you.**

* * *

"Samantha Dickson, age eight, raped and beaten. She sustained extensive trauma from the attack. Been dead about 12 hours." Warner finished her report and looked up at Olivia.

Olivia sighed and ran a tired hand through her hair. She shivered slightly in the cool October air. It was warm for October, but at the late hour, the colder winds were blowing. Olivia bit her lip and looked over at Elliot, who was talking intently to another cop.

"It's too bad it had to end this way," Olivia mumbled. Samantha had been missing for about a week and a half, but the detectives had still been optimistic about finding her alive. SVU had gotten involved when they realized the 11-Day rapist, as he was dubbed, had recently been released from jail. They knew they had to work quickly.

_I guess it wasn't quickly enough._

Olivia sighed heavily, thinking about how she would have to inform the parents. Samantha's parents had been so helpful, so desperate, and so hopeful throughout the entire ordeal that Olivia hated to have to disappoint them now.

"Oh, one more thing, Olivia," Warner said suddenly, bringing Olivia's attention back. Olivia nodded to show she was listening. "This was found in her hand."

Olivia took the piece of paper from her, frowning. She opened it and scanned it quickly; her frown deepened. "There's nothing on it!"

Warner nodded. "I'll take it down to the lab and test it with a black light, just to see what comes up." Olivia nodded and then turned around to look for Elliot. He was walking towards her now; his step was quick and Olivia knew something was wrong.

"What's up?" she asked him as he approached.

"That was Missing Persons," Elliot said. "They said there's another girl that's been missing for ten days now." Olivia immediately sensed his alarm.

"What's her name?"

"Jennifer Manson. She's also eight - and she lives only a few blocks away from Samantha."

Olivia bit her lip. "Ten days?" she repeated. "Her time is almost up. How come SVU wasn't told about this sooner?"

"They weren't smart enough to link the two abductions together. Remember the "11 Days" written on the wall where Samantha's parents said they had last saw her? That wasn't written where Jennifer was taken from."

"Why did they alert SVU now?"

"Because they realized how similar the cases were. Same age, same area. Hopefully we can find Jennifer before it's too late."

Olivia nodded. "But how are we going to find her in such a short amount of time?"

"He's going to start playing with us, Liv. The riddles start on the second victim."

Olivia's eyes widened, as she remembered how the game was played. She sighed, wondering when they would be sent their riddle. Her mind wandered and eventually fell on the seemingly blank piece of paper that had been found clenched in Samantha's hand. The paper that would be illuminated by the black light. From dark to light, illuminated by moonlight.

The 11-Day rapist. He operated under the stars.

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"We're here, Liv."

Olivia opened her eyes. She had been napping, resting her head in her elbow, which was leaning awkwardly against the window of the car. She blinked several times, taking in the vast Minnesota wilderness. The trees were thick and dense, the sun peeking through a few of the branches that were not clumped all that thickly together. Olivia opened the door and stepped onto the forest floor, feeling the dead leaves crack beneath her feet.

"So this is Minnesota," she mumbled. She eyed the shimmering lake warily.

Elliot chuckled. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

Olivia shrugged. The lake was clear and blue and the leaves on the trees were just changing their color from their summer green to the red and orange flames of August. But the air was nippy, bringing the cool blasts of winter with it already, even though it was just the beginning of November. She shivered; Elliot noticed.

"Let's get the bags and get inside, shall we?" Olivia nodded.

The inside of the woodsy cottage was cozy, not too large, not too small either. A small kitchen welcomed them inside. Olivia set the bags down in the hallway leading to the bedroom. She walked inside and frowned.

"Elliot?" she called. "There's only one bed."

Elliot entered the room behind her. He surveyed the situation for a moment, and then said, "You can have it. I can take the couch in the other room."

Olivia shook her head. "No, it's okay…Let's share it."

Elliot raised his eyebrows. "Are you sure?"

Olivia nodded. "It's okay," she said softly. She sank down on the bed and fell backwards on it.

"Home sweet home."

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Maybe her legs had taken her down the road less traveled. Maybe she had decided to turn off the path in search of something. The leaves were beautiful in a Minnesota November. There were more on the ground than left on the trees, but the branches sparkled with the sunlight. It was warm for November, much warmer than usual for Minnesota. Minnesota November was odd. Sometimes it meant snow, other times it meant colorful leaves still. This was one of the leaf years.

Maybe she had found the lake. Maybe it had beckoned to her, reaching its arms out, calling to her, calling her to its depths, to its deep blue surface. Maybe she had felt the need to get a closer look, to peer at its ripples, to believe the lake really was that immense. Maybe she had noticed the lake shining through the woods, calling to her. She had left the path, jogging away, stepping on the dying leaves, feeling them crunch beneath her feet. She had brushed her hair out of her face as she jogged, the wind giving her strength to keep going.

She had knelt at its shores, feeling the water beneath her fingertips. Maybe she had brushed her fingers against the surface, wetting them just slightly, feeling the cold water lick her skin.

Maybe she was just fine. Maybe she was going to come back soon. Soon, he told himself. She had to be back soon.

Maybe, just maybe.

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The sun was setting, sending shadows throughout the bull pen. Olivia sat at her desk, lost in thought, reading a file, but not really taking in a word. She was suddenly jerked from her stupor by the sound of the telephone ringing on her desk. She picked it up on the second ring.

"Benson." She listened, nodded, and then said, "We'll be right there." She replaced the receiver.

Elliot, who had been leaning back in his chair, let the legs hit the ground with a clunk. "Who was that?" he asked.

"Lab," answered Olivia. She stood up and Elliot followed suit. "They've got something we're going to want to see."

When they arrived at the lab, it was to find the technician waiting anxiously for them. "Come with me," he said as soon as he saw the two detectives arrive. Olivia and Elliot quickly followed him.

The technician led them over to a table where the piece of paper that had been in Samantha's had was lying underneath a black light. The technician flipped off the lights and turned on the black light. The detectives gasped as the secret message was illuminated.

_The Saint's will lead you down and around,_

_Soon you'll reflect in the water's glow._

_And while you search for Isabelle,_

_Keep an eye out, for a colored shell._

_Two shall seek, but will one be found?_

_Holding on, five more hours now._

_Careful or she'll be the shark's new chow,_

_Five more hours, until she's underground._

"Five more hours," Olivia whispered.

The 11-Day rapist was going to strike again.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Still not mine.

**A/N:** Thanks for the great response to the last chapter from the reviewers, obsessedwithstabler, KaydenceRei, onetreefan, Hkitty9013, Kelly of the midnight dawn, Jamie Morrow, tamasit1, TearsOfTheOliveTree, estrelita lovesSVU, Drop Dead Saxy, WinterGuarder15, sayit, and WuHaoNi. As always, please read and review!

**Dedicated to Drop Dead Saxy for her inspiration. It's not fishing, but it's cute. Love ya!

* * *

_The Saint's will lead you down and around,_**

_Soon you'll reflect in the water's glow._

_And while you search for Isabelle,_

_Keep an eye out, for a colored shell._

_Two shall seek, but will one be found?_

_Holding on, five more hours now._

_Careful or she'll be the shark's new chow,_

_Five more hours, until she's underground._

Olivia had read and reread this poem several times in the hour since she and Elliot had first received it from the technician. _Five more hours_ kept jumping out at her, reiterating the urgency of the situation. Olivia didn't know when the clock had started for the five hour countdown, but she knew that they would have to work quickly to save Jennifer in time.

The squad stood around the blackboard, each member focused intently on the enigmatic poem. Elliot was scratching notes onto a piece of paper and Munch was leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed, but his head bowed in thought. It was he that spoke first.

"It sounds like he's keeping her near the ocean," Munch said, opening his eyes and breaking the silence that had filled the better part of that hour at last. "Like at a harbor or marina or something."

Elliot nodded and rubbed his eyes. "A boat, perhaps," he added.

"Who's Isabelle?" Fin asked. "I thought we were trying to find Jennifer?"

"Maybe Isabelle is the name of the boat," Olivia murmured thoughtfully. "It sounds kind of like the name of a boat that would be at a marina."

"What time is it?" Elliot asked.

Olivia looked at the clock behind her. "It's almost eight," she said. She bit her lip. "We don't know when he started the clock."

"Let's work it like she's still alive," Cragen said, speaking finally. "We split the marinas in the area and look for a boat named Isabelle. Hopefully we can save Jennifer before the perp can kill her." The squad nodded its ascent.

Maybe, just maybe, they would find her in time.

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Maybe she had found a rock. Maybe while her fingertips had brushed the shallow surface of the lake, they had brushed a rock. Maybe it had been smooth, soft to her gentle touch. Maybe it was one of those rocks that was perfect for skipping across the water. Maybe it would have skipped five times, maybe six, but the point was that it could skip.

She had grasped the rock and pulled it from its watery lair. She had turned it over in her hand, feeling the weight of it in her palm. Maybe she had held it up to the sun to admire its color, if it had one. Or maybe she had just pulled her arm back and let the rock skip merrily across the surface of the lake. She had watched it skip into the horizon, becoming smaller and smaller, the gentle plop it made each time it hit the surface becoming softer and softer as it gained distance from the shore.

She had watched the rock, watched how it moved, how innocently it shattered the tranquil surface of the lake. As it moved away from the shore, the disturbed waters eventually returned to calm, but they still remembered the feel of the rock upon them, the way that rock had touched them and disturbed them from their peaceful slumbers. The rock had made its impression, even though it had only been there for a moment. It had only been a moment, but that moment would leave an impact forever.

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The sky was dark and the stars were out as Olivia and Elliot drove to the next marina on their list. It was the fourth one they had visited since the beginning of their search over an hour ago. It was now approaching 9:30.

Elliot and Olivia were silent as they entered the marina and pulled into the parking lot. They walked out onto the field that led to the main building.

"Excuse me," said a man's voice behind them. "Can I help you?"

Elliot and Olivia turned around, pulling out their badges. "I'm Detective Benson, and this is my partner, Detective Stabler," Olivia introduced. "Can you tell us where we might find the manager of this marina?"

The man nodded. "I'm the manager. My name is Ted Rogers. How may I help you?"

"We're looking for a boat," said Elliot. "Do you have any boats in this marina named Isabelle?"

Ted's eyes widened and he nodded. "That was one of the last boats I pulled out of the water a couple weeks ago. The boat's name is _Saint Isabelle_, actually."

Elliot frowned, but Olivia reached into her pocket and pulled out the poem. Her eyes widened as she realized that was the boat they were looking for.

_The Saint's will lead you down and around_

"Could you lead us to it?" Olivia asked.

Ted nodded. "Follow me." He brought them over to the third row from the building and led them down the row to the boat closest to the water's shores. It was painted white and had the name _Saint Isabelle_ splashed across it in bright blue print. "This your boat?"

The detectives nodded. "Thank you," said Elliot.

"No problem," said Ted. He turned to leave.

Elliot and Olivia hoisted themselves up onto the boat's deck with difficulty. Olivia's heart was pounding. She quickly walked around the deck, but didn't find anything. She frowned when she reached the door leading to the lower deck. She tried the knob. It was locked.

"Elliot!" she called. "The door is locked."

Elliot came over and tried the knob too, but it still didn't budge. He pressed his ear to the door and his frown deepened. "Can you hear that?"

Olivia pressed her ear to the door. "It sounds like…water."

Elliot nodded, his eyes wide. He stepped back and braced himself for the strong kick that would be required to break inside.

_Bang!_ The door was shoved open and the detectives almost yelled in surprise. Water flowed out quickly now that the dam holding it back had been destroyed. As Elliot and Olivia felt the water seep through their shoes and pants, they noticed the small form of a girl floating on the wave. Elliot quickly turned her over. He pressed his fingers to her neck, but it was too late. He shook his head hopelessly as he looked down at the lifeless form of Jennifer Manson.

Up above them, the stars shined down cruelly upon the detectives and the latest victim of the rapist.

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Olivia awoke slowly on her back with Elliot's arm draped over her stomach. She was slightly surprised at first, but then she smiled at his comforting touch. She gently wriggled her way from his grasp and padded her way to the bathroom. When she had finished, she noticed Elliot was watching her. He smiled when she walked back into the bedroom, dressed for a jog.

"Morning," he greeted her.

"Morning," Olivia greeted back. She frowned. "How long have you been awake?"

Elliot shrugged slightly. "Not long." He paused as his eyes scanned her figure, taking in her early morning beauty. He suddenly realized he was staring. "Are you going for a jog now, or are you going to eat breakfast first?" He knew it was a stupid question, but he had to say something.

"I'll eat breakfast when I get back," Olivia told him. "See you."

Elliot nodded. "See you." She took off jogging. Elliot sighed and rolled out of bed. He stepped into the shower and quickly let the water soak into his skin. When he had finished, he dressed quickly and went into the kitchen. He opened the cupboards looking for something to make for breakfast. He was just throwing pancake batter onto the griddle when Olivia came back from her jog.

"Mm," she said as she walked into the kitchen, deeply inhaling the scents. "Smells wonderful, Elliot."

He smiled and flipped some of the pancakes onto a plate. "Here you go; eat up, Liv."

Olivia took the plate and fork from him and put the strawberries and whipped cream that Elliot had laid out on top of the golden brown cakes. She took a bite and chewed, a smile breaking out on her face. "They're great, Elliot."

Elliot smiled as he flipped some pancakes onto his plate and reached for the strawberries. "Thanks. My kids used to ask me to make them every Sunday before church."

The two partners continued eating their pancakes in silence, enjoying sunlight streaming through the window and the birds chirping outside. Olivia finished eating her pancakes, licking the strawberry juice from her lip. She had missed some whipped cream on the side of her mouth. Elliot noticed.

"Liv, you missed some on the side." He pointed it out on his face.

Olivia's tongue reached to the side of her face, but she had mirrored Elliot instead of going to the same side as him. The result was that her tongue licked the left side of her mouth instead of the right where the whipped cream was. Elliot laughed and stepped forward to help her.

"Did I get it?" asked Olivia, assuming he was laughing at her attempt to lick it from her mouth instead of the fact the cream was still on her mouth.

Elliot shook his head. He brought a finger to her mouth to wipe it away, but instead of using his finger to wipe away the whipped cream, he brought his finger underneath Olivia's chin and tilted her mouth up to his. He ignored her surprise and smirked as he used his tongue to wipe away the whipped cream on her lips.

He pulled back when he had finished, smiling. His smile deepened into a grin when he noticed Olivia looked surprised, yet pleased.

"I've wanted to do that for such a long time," Elliot whispered.

"What, get rid of the whipped cream?" Olivia asked playfully.

Elliot kissed her again. "No, this."

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Another girl had been found dead after Jennifer. Annie Browne had been found strangled in a back alley a couple of miles away from the marina. A piece of paper was clutched in her limp hand as well. It was written in black ink, but didn't contain much information.

_You know the name of your next victim. She lies beneath the stars._

Elliot and Olivia were desperate to find this girl before she ended up like the other ones. They didn't know the name, but they had searched the missing persons files. The best match was an eight-year-old from the Bronx. It was outside their precinct, but everything else seemed to match.

Her name was Isabelle Carson. She had been missing for ten days, and at the end of this day, it would be eleven. Elliot and Olivia knew they didn't have much time.

"What the hell does that mean? 'She lies beneath the stars'?" Olivia asked angrily.

Elliot sighed and looked out the window. The stars above winked to him from the heavens. It was nearing 11:00. He suddenly gasped. "She's in Central Park."

Olivia's eyes widened. "Let's go."

They drove quickly to the park. They knew the chances of her lying out in the open were very remote, so they drove to the woods right off the park. Elliot and Olivia leapt out of the car and began searching the area. Olivia nearly tripped over the body.

"Elliot!"

He came running over to see Olivia kneeling beside the body of another dead girl. She had been gagged, probably dead from asphyxiation. Olivia pointed to the piece of paper crumbled in Isabelle's limp right hand.

Elliot unrolled it and looked at it. It was blank.

Another clue to be illuminated by the moon.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** -sigh- They are still not mine...And they probably never will be...

**A/N:** Didn't get as many reviews as usual for the last chapter, but I suppose that the show must go on. Thanks to obsessedwithstabler, Drop Dead Saxy, Hkitty9013, Winterguarder15, onetreefan, estrelita lovesSVU, tamasit1, AliasCSINYFriendsER, and Kate Taylor for reviewing.

**This chapter is dedicated to KaydenceRei. Her poetry is once again featured in this chapter and I think you will find it haunting and strangely brilliant. You would hate to be the one that has to solve it. Thanks again, girl. Love you.**

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Maybe she had seen a boat. While squinting in the horizon, wondering where that rock she had skipped had gotten to, she had spotted a boat. The boat was actually not in the horizon, it was actually pretty close, but when her eyes had scanned the landscape, they had fallen on the dock. The dock was actually to her left.

Maybe she had taken off jogging again, jogging towards the dock. She didn't know why she was going there, wasn't sure even why she would want to get into the boat. She didn't know much about boats, hadn't really been in one very often. Maybe once or twice when she was younger, but probably not very recently.

Maybe the boat was a larger boat, complete with a second floor that one could reach by climbing down about three steps. Maybe it would be a boat that she would feel comfortable on, one that she could drive comfortably.

Maybe she had climbed onto it, hoisting herself over its edge. She had pulled herself into the small space on the top deck and surveyed the surroundings. The boat was tied to the dock by a rope, but with a knot that wasn't that tight. It had really been left there, for no one. For nothing.

Or maybe it had just appeared.

She didn't press the matter. She began working on the knot, feeling the need to take the boat out on the lake, to feel the wind in her hair. She needed to feel that closeness to the incomprehensible, to the water, the fickle water. It was tranquil on the surface, but beneath, it was fuming.

She pushed the boat off from the dock once she finished with the knot. She was able to turn on the engine, not really bothering to check how much gas was the in tank. All she cared about was being able to leave the shore, to leave the chaos behind her and enter a world of even greater chaos, of an even greater unknown.

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It had been a few days since Elliot had kissed his partner, since he had finally exposed his true feelings for her, and she had exposed hers. The day found them lying together on a rug on the floor just staring up at the ceiling and listening to the birds outside, feeling the warm sunlight fall across their bodies.

Elliot looked over at Olivia. Her eyes were closed, and he wondered if she had fallen asleep; she had been silent for some time. Elliot rolled over onto his side and kissed her. After a moment, he felt her respond, slipping her tongue into his mouth. He smirked against her lips.

"I guess you are awake," Elliot said as they broke apart. Olivia laughed.

"I'm awake." She smiled at him. The sun played into her hair, illuminating it gold. It reflected beautifully against her darker brown strands.

"You're beautiful, Liv," Elliot murmured to himself.

Olivia blushed, as did Elliot a moment later. "I heard that," she whispered in response to his embarrassed glance. Elliot's face broke into a smile and he kissed her again.

"Well, it's true," he whispered. "But you weren't supposed to hear that?"

"Why not?" Olivia asked playfully.

"Because I'd rather show it to you instead." Olivia sighed happily against Elliot's strong chest. She listened to his heart beating beneath his shirt and thought she had never heard a more beautiful sound.

She had never been happier, could never be happier than she was right now, in that moment. The missing piece in her life was found, completed. She was complete. She had pulled her life together.

It was a strange feeling, really. She had filled in this void in her life, but she hadn't even known the void had been there until it had been filled.

That was more scary than anything else.

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The latest note from the 11-Day rapist that had been found clenched in Isabelle's hand had been illuminated by black light again for the detectives in the lab. It was more daunting than the first one:

_Start from Canal, make a left and then a right, _

_Trust me my friends, she'll not go down without a fight. _

_Nobody's home, there's no breeze, no room to fly a kite, _

_Little lady Lila's left in the dark without a light. _

_Six hours is what I'll give you this time, _

_If you can finally figure out my rhyme. _

_Pass the lover's lane at three o'clock, _

_Don't bother with the teens, don't put them all in shock. _

_Drive along the road for an hour, _

_Don't wait too long, she's been left to cower. _

_Three plus one, can you find the right room? _

_Preferably before the little Lila goes boom._

"What is this place?" Olivia asked uncertainly, her tone wavering.

Elliot bit his lip. "I don't know if we need to know what specific place we're looking for, Olivia. These…don't lead to a place. I think they're directions…"

Olivia took another look at the enigmatic riddle in front of her. "When did the clock start?" she wondered aloud.

Elliot took a closer look at the clues for time in the riddle. If they "passed the lover's land at three o'clock" and "drove for an hour" it was projected to be four o'clock by the time they reached the location. The clock had to have started at around 10:00, logically. Elliot checked his watch. It was noon. "I think we have four more hours, Liv." He explained to her how he had arrived at that conclusion.

It sounded logical to her. "Let's see if we can't get to Lila before this creep does."

Even as she said it, Olivia felt something settle in her stomach. It was doubt. Sadness. The knowledge that she had just lied to herself. It seemed too good to be true. They both knew it, but they wouldn't, couldn't - shouldn't - say it. They could stay optimistic, they could say that they could find her in time, and they could work their asses off trying to do it, but in the end, they knew it was going to be futile.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** I do not own anything.

**A/N:** No, I did not forget about this story! I know it may feel like it, seeing as I haven't updated in over a month, but I am truly sorry! begs forgiveness So, here is the next chapter, and to make up for it, I will have the next chapter up by Saturday night!

First, thanks to the wonderful and many reviewers from last time: Tamasit1, obsessedwithstabler, onetreefan, AnaDry, KaydenceRei, Hkitty9013, Drop Dead Saxy, WuHaoNi, Elliotlvu, Kate Taylor, AliasCSINYFriendsER, estrelita lovesSVU, and SVUfan1006!

Second, everyone please enjoy the chapter and don't forget to leave those wonderful reviews that make me smile!

* * *

Olivia rested her head back against Elliot's chest. She closed her eyes and just sat still for awhile, drinking in the scent of his cologne. She felt Elliot lay his head on top of hers, felt his arms weave their way around her shoulders. They remained there, in silence, for so long that Olivia felt herself dozing off in Elliot's embrace. Suddenly, he spoke. 

"Liv?"

Olivia blinked twice to clear her drowsy mind, bringing herself back to the present. "Yeah?" she whispered back.

"Do you ever think about it?"

She frowned slightly, not quite sure what he meant. "Think about what, Elliot?"

He was quiet for a moment, and then he whispered, "New York."

Olivia nodded. "Of course I do…" She trailed off.

"But," Elliot prompted her gently.

"But," Olivia continued slowly, "it's so…different here. So quiet, and…I don't know, so peaceful. I feel like there isn't a care in the world when I'm here with you. It's like…there's just you and the trees and the sky and I can lose myself in it, you know?"

Elliot frowned slightly. "You don't miss New York?"

Olivia bit her lip. "I don't miss it as much as I thought I would. New York is such a big city; it's so easy to lose yourself in it. Ironically, when I'm there, I try so hard not to lose myself. But when I'm here, when it would be so easy to find myself…all I want to be is lost."

Elliot nodded slowly, slightly unnerved by what Olivia was saying. She was staring out the glass doors into the dark sky, and she didn't seem to notice his discomfort. Elliot decided not to question her about it. Instead, he wrapped his arms tighter around her and pulled her closer to him. He gently kissed her neck, working his way around her warm flesh to her lips.

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_Start from Canal, make a left and then a right, _

_Trust me my friends, she'll not go down without a fight. _

_Nobody's home, there's no breeze, no room to fly a kite, _

_Little lady Lila's left in the dark without a light. _

_Six hours is what I'll give you this time, _

_If you can finally figure out my rhyme. _

_Pass the lover's lane at three o'clock, _

_Don't bother with the teens, don't put them all in shock. _

_Drive along the road for an hour, _

_Don't wait too long, she's been left to cower. _

_Three plus one, can you find the right room? _

_Preferably before the little Lila goes boom._

It was now three o'clock. Elliot and Olivia were driving past the "lover's lane" in their attempt to follow the latest directions as dictated by the riddle. They passed several teen couples on their way past and refrained from "putting them all in shock." As they drove, Olivia began to feel the dubious feeling settle in the pit of her stomach again.

"Elliot?" she murmured.

"Yeah, Liv?" he answered.

"Are you sure this is right?"

Elliot frowned and turned to his partner. "What do you mean, Olivia?"

Olivia shrugged. "I don't know…I just have a bad feeling about this. I feel like we did something wrong, like we didn't calculate correctly or something. What if we get there and Lila's already dead? What if we're in the wrong spot entirely? What if-?"

"Olivia," Elliot interrupted gently. "Olivia, we're going to be fine; Lila's going to be fine too. Don't worry, we will find her."

Even as he said it, Olivia could sense his doubt.

"I want to believe you, Elliot," she whispered. He didn't hear her.

An hour later, they had been driving west-bound and had ended up in an empty field. Elliot stopped and car and he and Olivia got out.

"I don't think this is right, Elliot," Olivia said softly. She squinted in the bright sunlight. "There don't appear to be any 'rooms' here."

Elliot didn't answer, but continued to walk through the grassy field, shielding his eyes from the sun as he went. "Lila?" he called. "Lila? Lila, can you hear me?"

Some moaning could be heard from a hut about twenty feet away from them. Heart racing, Elliot started sprinting towards the building, Olivia right on his heels. However, when the two detectives pulled within five feet of the hut, they were suddenly met with a resounding BOOM and were thrown to the ground.

Olivia gasped in horror as the building burst into flame. Bright flashes of red and orange danced cruelly on the burning wood. Elliot caught sight of one of the nearby trees.

"Liv," he moaned. He pointed to the scorched bark. Someone had taken a wood burner and had etched a message onto the tree.

_If Lila were here, that would have been her, detectives. Too bad; I expected better from you. If you are reading this, you misunderstood the directions. Want another clue?_

_Three o'clock means east, not west._

Olivia felt bile rise up in her throat as she read the message. They had failed another girl, and this time it had been because they interpreted the clue incorrectly. It was their fault this time. They were given the chance to save Lila, and they had failed, miserably.

Needless to say, the drive back to the city was passed in silence. And when the arrived to the correct location nearly three hours later, at a warehouse marked 31, they found the body of a young girl. She was dead. She had been burned to death.

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Maybe she had taken the boat for a long ride around the lake. Maybe she had decided to admire the water, or the sky, or even the woods around her, and had gone for a joy ride on the lake. She had steered the boat away from the shore, and towards wherever the waves would take her.

Maybe she had seen some fish while on the ride. She had taken the breadcrumbs that were stale and perhaps even moldy that were sitting in a bag in the boat and had thrown them to the fish. She had watched them disappear, watched them sink below the surface of the water, some of them being rejected even by the hungry fish.

Or maybe she had found a fishing pole on board the boat and decided to try her hand at it. She had learned how to fish a few summers ago, and wanted to see how well she could do. She would take the breadcrumbs and use them as bait. She would hook them onto the line and watch them disappear beneath the water. Maybe the fish would bite, but maybe they wouldn't. It was like a case in court. Even with the bait, a jury won't always convict.

Or maybe she had done neither. Maybe she had just sailed the boat for the sake of sailing. Maybe she hadn't seen any fish at all. Maybe she hadn't even been on the lake.

So then maybe there were different scenarios to fit the same story. Maybe what he thought was reality had never actually happened. Maybe she wasn't lost at all, and was maybe coming back to him that moment.

Maybe he was in denial.

Or maybe, if she had been on the lake and she had seen the fish, she had also seen the island.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **Do I look like Dick Wolf to you?

**A/N:** Look, an update! That's what happens on Spring Break - more updates! Sooo...thanks to all my wonderful reviewers from last time, onetreefan, PaceyW'sgirl, SVUfan1006, Kate Taylor, Drop Dead Saxy, obsessedwithstabler, WuHaoNi, Hkitty9013, AliasCSINYFriendsER, Kaydence Rei, and Lizzie9! Lots of nice reviews happy author! And happy author more udpates! So everyone, please review!

* * *

Olivia sighed angrily and threw the file down onto the desk. "Damn it!" she screamed.

Elliot walked back over from where he was making coffee, two mugs in hand. He handed one wordlessly to her and sat down across from her. Cragen steamed out of his office.

"Let's keep the screaming to a minimum, Detective!" he barked at Olivia. He cleared his throat and addressed the rest of the bull pen. "Where are we?"

"Nowhere," Munch said, his voice also showing strain. "We don't know where he's going to strike, or when. M.E. found no trace of a clue on Lila's body."

"Well, she wouldn't, would she, seeing as Lila was charred to a-"

"All right!" Cragen yelled angrily. "That's enough! Everyone just shut up!" His detectives fell silent, though the tension was still thick in the room. Cragen huffed. "Now, I want you to stop acting like children. Olivia, I want you to take a walk. Elliot, I want you to find lunch somewhere. Munch, Fin, you can stay here and answer the phones." Cragen paused to survey the responses from the detectives, but everyone was silent. "Good. Now get to it!"

Olivia grabbed her coat and stalked out of the precinct. Elliot was close on her heels.

"Liv! Hey – Liv!"

Olivia whipped around. "What, Elliot?" she spat.

Elliot took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Are you okay?"

"I'm…" Olivia's voice died in her throat. She sighed and brushed a hand through her hair. She took a step closer to Elliot. "I don't know," she murmured. "I just don't know."

"Walk with me?"

Olivia sighed and walked slowly over to Elliot. He gestured for them to turn the corner onto the next street. "It's getting to me, Elliot," Olivia said softly. "I don't know if I can handle it anymore."

"It's getting to all of us, Liv," Elliot answered gently. "These cases with kids…you know they're always the hardest."

Olivia shook her head. "This one is different, Elliot. It's like…oh, I can't explain it! It's…different. It's like, sometimes, I just don't feel like I can do it any more. Like we'll never find the girls in time or-"

Elliot cut her off. "Olivia, all the cases are like that."

Olivia sighed. "Have you ever felt like the situation was so hopeless you just couldn't go on?" Elliot shook his head and Olivia continued. "With this case…it just feels like nothing will get better. We're falling, Elliot. We're falling and no one is going to catch us."

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Moonlight was falling over the Minnesota wilderness. The night wind rushed through the trees, making them sway and groan in the night. Elliot and Olivia were sitting on the bed together; Elliot was reading a book, but Olivia was staring out the window.

"Let's go for a walk," she said suddenly.

Elliot put down his book, but frowned at her. "Right now?"

Olivia nodded. "Yeah…Do you want to?"

Elliot shrugged. "Sure, why not?" He took Olivia's hand and led her from the room. They grabbed some coats and went out the door.

The dead leaves crunched beneath their feet as they walked through the woods. The wind made it chilly, but it wasn't unbearable; it was still warmer than usual for November. Elliot wrapped his arm around Olivia as they continued to walk through the woods. Olivia gazed up at the stars.

"The stars are so clear here," she whispered. They stopped and Elliot looked at the sky, peering through the branches of the tall trees.

"You could lose yourself in them," Elliot remarked.

"Does it make you seem small, if you think about it?" Olivia asked softly. "Those stars are millions of miles away, and that's only in our galaxy. Who knows how many more galaxies there are out there?"

"Really puts it in perspective," Elliot murmured.

Olivia nodded. "It's like all of your own problems seem so insignificant, in the grand scheme of things. We're all parts of this universe, but we are so small. What we do…It's like it doesn't matter even, if you really think about it."

Elliot shook his head. "No, Olivia. What you do helps humanity, and that means more to anyone than all the stars in the galaxies. It's not what you do; it's how it's perceived by others around you. Everything you do has a consequence. It just has to be interpreted."

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Maybe she had seen the island.

The island wasn't large by any means, but it was decently sized enough. It had trees; it was sheltered. It had places to hide, and there would be food to eat. Maybe if she was at the island, she was still alive.

Maybe she had brought the boat in to the island, had left it floating just off shore since she couldn't find anything to tie it to. Maybe there were rocks around the island, and she knew the boat wouldn't be able to float away if it were stranded on the rocks. Maybe she had left the boat offshore and had gotten onto the island herself.

Maybe the water around the island had been cold and wet as it seeped into her socks. It was clear water, and she could see the rocks at the bottom. She had waded through the water in order to reach the shore where the sand was mostly smaller or broken rocks, but at least would not be the frigid water. Maybe she had climbed onto the island and had begun looking for shelter.

So then maybe she was safe. Maybe she was just waiting on the island for her thoughts to collect themselves in her head. Maybe she was just waiting for the right moment to return. The right moment to run into his arms and say she was sorry for being gone and that she hoped he would forgive her.

And of course, he would.

Maybe she was safe.

Maybe, just maybe.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** I totally own...nothing. DAMN IT!

**A/N:** Yes...I do realize it's been forever since I've updated. I truly am sorry about that...Well, at any rate, here is the next chaper. Thanks to my lovely reviewers from last time, AliasCSINYFriendsER, Elliotlvu, onetreefan, marianne0424, Lizzie9, Drop Dead Saxy, SVUfann1006, Kate Taylor, Hkitty9013, EnglishJumperChick13, estrelitalovesSVU, KaydenceRei, and Soaringmunkymuffins (and obsessedwithstabler, when she gets to it!). You are all awesome!

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Elliot watched as the police officers invaded the tranquil Minnesota woods. They walked up to his door with such grim expressions on their faces; he felt all the hope sucked out of him.

He did not wait for them to knock, but opened the door immediately as they approached him. "Detective Stabler?" one of them asked. Elliot nodded his head. "My name is Officer Johnson, and this is Officer Kilbourne." Elliot let his eyes fall on the officer who was speaking, and then his female partner.

"Yes, come inside," Elliot said softly, stepping back and allowing them to enter.

He hadn't intended to call the police, but it was nearly dark and Olivia had not returned yet. Elliot knew she had gone out jogging earlier that morning, but could not understand why she had not returned. She had been missing for about ten hours.

Slowly, he recounted his story to the two officers. He explained that he and Olivia were partners from New York, and here from vacation. "Our captain sent us here after a difficult case," Elliot explained. "It was supposed to be a vacation."

"How much stress is Olivia usually under?" Officer Kilbourne asked.

"We're both under stress," Elliot answered, slightly defensively. "Our jobs suck sometimes – and this last case sucked from the moment we found our first victim. Look Officers, she's not one to wander off. Something has happened to her-"

"We realize the gravity of the situation, Detective Stabler," Officer Johnson said. "We're going to put some of our people on it. Don't worry; we will find your partner."

Somehow, Elliot wasn't sure about that. He gazed out the window absently. It was beginning to rain. Somehow, it made it seem like his horizon was even darker. It was now dusk and the sun was sinking into the shadows of the night. Elliot rather thought he saw his hope sinking with it.

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Maybe, if she had made it to the island, she was stuck there. Maybe the rocks hadn't proved to be as sturdy as she thought they would be, and the boat had drifted away. Maybe she had come back to the shore after searching the island and finding nothing there that the boat had drifted along the lake, floating along in its own magical world, commanded by a hand that was unseen to the rest of the world. It had a mind of its own, perhaps.

Maybe she had cried. She had fallen to the rocky shore and begged for answers from the invisible force of fate that controls the world, if such a force exists. She had sobbed, putting her head to her knees, and sobbed because she was going to be trapped there. She cried, cried until she had no more tears left.

Maybe not. Maybe she hadn't cried; in fact, maybe she had showed no emotion at all. Maybe her rational side had taken control of her body, instead of the emotional, irrationality that otherwise would have. She was smart, and more than competent to come up with a creative solution. She would be able to make it off the island if she put her mind to it.

It was raining. She could feel the droplets hitting her face, splashing onto her cheeks, melting into her hair. She was shivering in the cold air that blew around her. The wind was whispering. She didn't know what it was saying; that was indistinguishable. Maybe it was talking about her. Maybe the wind carried the stories of the people that it touched, singing in its own voice of the tragedy that struck the human beings that lived in its world.

She could not allow herself to be one of those tragic humans. She could not allow herself to be weak. She would need to find the strength within herself to keep going, even when she felt that all hope was lost.

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They say that good things come in threes, but Olivia no longer believed that. The last three days had shown her three more victims. Good things did not come in threes.

The last three victims had each been shot three times. One of them had been shot in the head, one in the chest, and the other in the back. Olivia could not bear seeing anymore of the looks on the faces of the broken parents. She did not want to read anymore sick notes from this sadistic killer. She did not want to have anything more to do with this case.

No one had a profile. No one had a clue as to who this guy was. He had so far not left any identifying information, and no riddles about himself. The only riddles he left always led to yet another victim, and then Olivia and Elliot would have to deal with yet another hysterical set of parents. With each family that Olivia had to break the bad news too, she felt a piece of her heart ripped out.

The last note that had been found by the most recent victim was one of the most disturbing yet. It had read: "They say good things come in threes."

Olivia no longer believed that.

"Coffee, Liv?"

Olivia jerked her head up from her desk at the sound of Elliot's voice. It was around six in the morning; she hadn't left the precinct since six in the morning _yesterday_ morning. She took the cup from Elliot wearily.

"Thanks," she said softly. Elliot sat down across from her and reached over to grab one of the files.

"Sick sadistic killer," Elliot muttered under his breath as he began eating a twinkie.

Olivia nodded. "Bastard."


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **I own nothing.

**A/N:** Thanks for the reviewers from last time. Keep on reading!

* * *

"Olivia!"

Olivia jerked her head off of the desk and looked up at Elliot, blinking through bleary eyes. She rubbed them open and stifled a yawn behind her hand. Elliot passed this without comment. It was clear that he had more pressing things on his mind.

"We have a suspect. John's bringing him in right now."

Olivia instantly became more alert. Her eyes widened and she felt wide awake. "What's his name?"

"Wesley Cahill," Elliot answered. "He's got quite a history, but most of the offenses were juvenile. Casey's working on getting the full records unsealed."

Olivia nodded and took a sip of the cold coffee on her desk. She had just put down the cup when the suspect came in, hand cuffed, and led by Munch. He had light brown hair and a few stubs of hair on his chin. His eyes were dark and he kept them focused on the destination. He did not look at her as he passed.

Elliot looked at Olivia. "Let's go."

They entered the interrogation room together and gazed down at the piece of filth in front of them. Wesley looked up at them as they came closer. Elliot drew up a chair and sat down next to the suspect.

"You like killing little girls, you sick freak?"

Wesley shook his big head frantically. "No, I swear I didn't do it!"

"Oh, we're not buying that," Olivia said, coming closer. "You've got yourself quite a record."

Wesley shook his head. "No - no! I'm through with all that stuff! I could never hurt anyone again!"

"And why's that, big boy?"

"Because!" he gasped. "Because I don't want to go back to jail! I don't want to be known as a baby killer!"

"Then why'd you do it?" Olivia asked, cocking her head to the right.

Wesley exhaled loudly. "I didn't do it! What else do you want me to do?"

"How about an alibi?" Elliot suggested. "Saturday, ten-thirty."

Wesley nodded enthusiastically. "I was with my buddies, playing poker. I was there until at least one in the morning."

"Names," snarled Olivia.

"Jeff Connelly - he was the host. You can just ask him!"

"We'll do that."

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Elliot watched the sun slip slowly beneath the horizon. The golden rays reflected off of the window of the shattered Minnesota haven. Elliot let a soft sigh escape his lips as he slowly turned away from the darkening sky.

He had never felt so helpless in his life. The officers had left, and had bid Elliot to stay where he was. He was not at all pleased by this arrangement - he had never been one to sit around when his partner was in danger - but the officers left him no choice. There was something about the officers that unnerved Elliot slightly; there was an aura of mistrust and distrust about them. He got the feeling that they didn't believe him.

He saw no reason why Olivia would wander off. Something had to have happened to her. He could feel it in his heart. She would have returned. She would have left a note. What if someone had taken her? Elliot shuddered at the thought. He knew that there were plenty of people out there that would like nothing else than to see the woman he loved dead on a slab in the morgue. _But they couldn't possibly know where we are,_ Elliot comforted himself.

He knew that he should eat something, but he couldn't bring himself to take a bit of food to his lips. He didn't bother to make anything for dinner, knowing he could never force it down. Elliot was sick with worry, and the fact that he couldn't do anything to find her made him all the more unwary. He could not move from where he had seated himself by the dying embers of the fire.

As he let the first tear slip down his face, Elliot rather thought he could feel his tattered soul connect to hers. She was calling to him. She had to be alive. She had to come back to him.

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The sun was sinking, casting an eerie reddish glow over the darkening ripples. It sank beneath the horizon, tucking itself into bed for the night, and sending the silent, yet unmistakable, message that its admirers ought to be doing the same. It dipped beneath the skyline, finally allowing itself to be encompassed in its starry quilt.

Maybe she had seen it: she was standing on the shores of the rocky beach, hugging her arms around herself, partly because she was cold, and party because she was lonely. Maybe she had rubbed her arms gently, not in a vague attempt to warm herself, but out of comfort. That was often how he had tried to comfort her.

Night came earlier in November. The promise of winter took the hope of light with it. Although she knew they had been losing light since June, it was still a shock that it could get dark so early, and so quickly. She knew that it would soon be December, and that the winter solstice would finally allow the days to remain bathed in the light longer, and that the darkness would finally fade. It was ironic that the winter solstice fell on the same day as what calendars declared as the first day of winter, when winter was usually associated with darkness, not with light.

The waves of the lake crashed onto the beach, splashing onto her skin. Maybe she had touched her feet where the water had kissed her, drying herself quickly before the cool November air could do it for her. Maybe she had noticed that November had suddenly become a lot colder. The warm November days were gone, in a fleeting instant. Although she probably didn't know it, she would never experience another warm day again.

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"Damn it, damn it, DAMN IT!"

"ELLIOT!" barked Cragen. "Calm down!"

"Calm down? Calm down?" Elliot shrieked. "I can't BELIEVE that alibi checked out! It had to be him!"

"Elliot!" Olivia yelled over him. "It doesn't matter. We will find someone else-"

Elliot gave an angry yell and shoved a large stack of files to the ground. Growling, he stooped to pick them up. As he did so, the phone began ringing. Olivia quickly picked it up. Elliot looked up from the ground just in time to see her face fall. He didn't need to ask to know that the 11-Day rapist had struck again.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: **I don't own anything.

**A/N:** I know it's been awhile, and I really don't have any excuse. To tell you all the truth, I'm surprised I continued writing November Without You at all. But...here's the next chapter anyway. Thanks to the people that reviewed last time.

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"Name?"

"Natasha Adler," Warner responded dully. "She looks to be about eight, or nine, but it's rather hard to tell, considering…" She trailed off, and Olivia frowned. "Olivia, I've seen some pretty horrible crimes in my day, but this…this just defies humanity."

"What do you mean?" Olivia asked, stricken.

"Well, um, Natasha was found in…pieces."

"Pieces?" she repeated. She felt her stomach churn and she suddenly wished she had not eaten anything for breakfast.

Warner nodded grimly. 'I managed to identify the face from the Missing Person's report. That's how I knew it was Natasha."

Olivia's frown deepened. "Doesn't that make it possible that not all the body parts are Natasha's?" She felt revolted at the very thought.

"Possible," Warner began, "but not likely. The skin tones are all the same, and the 11-Day Rapist has never been known to mix his victims. Take a look at this." She held out a piece of paper to Olivia.

_The puzzle is not yet complete. _

The note was just as cryptic as the last one. She sighed in frustration and turned the paper over, hoping for another clue. There was writing on the other side, but it was only one line:

_The tide rises at midnight._

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Night was falling upon the tiny island. Maybe she had found a place to spend the night, to curl up into a warm ball and to drift away for awhile. Maybe the island had some caves, long abandoned by bears, that she could use as a makeshift shelter. It was not an ideal situation, and yet there was not much else that could be done. She had suffered worse hardships before in her life; this was not something that would easily scare her.

Maybe she had listened to the sounds of the night as she tried to fall asleep. Maybe the soft coos of the owls in the trees or the whisper of the deer had been just loud enough for her to make out. Maybe the wind had sung softly to her, bringing its own attempt to calm her nerves. Maybe she had fallen asleep, using rocks and pillows and the dust of the scarcely used cave as a blanket.

Or maybe she had trouble falling asleep. Maybe, no matter how hard she tried, she could not bring herself to relax long enough to allow her mind to enter the wonderland of dreams. Maybe she lay awake, shifting in the night to find a comfortable position. Maybe it had been two hours and she still hadn't managed to fall asleep.

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Elliot lay in bed, not really sure of what he was doing there. He stretched his arms, extending them above his head, trying to release some of the tension he felt in the taught muscles into the air. He exhaled loudly as he brought his arms back down.

Elliot rolled over and squirmed around a bit. It seemed so wrong that he could fall asleep without his Olivia by his side. What seemed even more wrong was that he should be privileged enough to fall asleep in the soft comforts of nice linen sheets and fluffy pillows while she was god knows where in the woods, sleeping on woodchips or dirty grounds, or worse, on nothing that all. Elliot immediately chastised himself for thinking such negative thoughts. He knew he had to remain positive if he wanted to accomplish anything.

He knew he needed to fall asleep in order to be well rested the next day. There was little he could do to help her if he was falling asleep on his feet all day. Elliot sighed loudly. His sigh was a huff of anger, a cry of pain, and a sob of agony.

Why, when everything was going so right, did it all have to go so wrong?

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Melinda Warner frowned as she rubbed her aching back and bent over Natasha's head. She had saved the head for last, unable to look at the blue eyes of the young girl, which were still open, and stared at her, wide and glassy. Warner shuddered.

While examining Natasha's chin, she noticed bruising by the jaw line, as though the girl's mandible had been crushed, or had been forced to clamp down hard on something before she died. Carefully, Warner pried open Natasha's jaw. She let out a little scream of surprise when she saw the wooden box inside. It was not a large box, hardly bigger than an egg, but when Warner opened it, it was to find a note, folded into a tiny square. With shaking fingers, she unwrapped it.

_A life no longer worth living means that death is my only hope for salvation. _

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By the light of the moon, he wrote his final note. He had already completed his destiny, had already done all that he had ever wanted to do. Ten girls were now dead, and it would be the job of others now to find the bodies. By the time they managed to uncover the bodies of Allison and Eliza, there would already be an eleventh body for them to find.

Who he was was of no importance, except to the few people he knew were working on the case, and maybe the families of the girls he had killed. But otherwise, his identity would remain in the shadows. They'd be unable to prosecute him and turn his case into a display of whatever prosecutors were arguing these days. His crimes would slip away in history. He was in control of it all. They would find him only when he wanted to be found.

That time had come. He took the gun and laughed. He laughed at the thought of them finding the bodies of the girls he had killed. He laughed at the thought of them finding his own body and the note he had left beside it. He laughed because he had nothing better to do with his life but to laugh in the face of death.


End file.
